Karaoke Night
by xCrimsonxBlackxBloodx
Summary: It's amazing how a little alcohol can cause one to lose any and all inhibitions. This is an important lesson that Edward learns the hard way... Much to his commanding officer's chagrin.


**Disclaimer: ****You recognize 'em? Good for you; they're not mine. Nor are the extremely well known songs that I use in this fic, sung by Celene Dion and (sigh) the Spice Girls.**

**XXX**

**Karaoke Night…**

**XXX**

The stars were bright in a clear summer's sky, and the full moon lie peacefully within its velvety blanket. A few cars drove down cobblestone streets, and pedestrians made their ways, gaily and care-free, to their respective destinations.

Silently, as soft as shadows, we follow a lonely stranger, suspicious in his over-grown coat which he wore despite the summer's heat. He peers around himself, glancing up and down the momentarily empty street before pulling a wedding band off of his hand. Then, he slips inside a wooden door.

For all of his cautious actions, though, one cannot help but notice the bright, red and blue neon sign, hanging from an iron pole above the door, which reads _Lulu's Gay Bar_.

The air within the bar is smoky, though no one seems to notice this. Voices ring throughout the room, its unfinished wooden walls decorated with plaques and pictures. A bar with two bartenders behind it ran the length of the wall; to the right, a stage had been set up, with huge speakers on each side and a large banners fluttering from the roof. "_KARAOKE NIGHT_" it proclaimed in block, black letters, along with a brief mentioned that, the more you sang, the more free drinks you would get.

It is highly doubtful that the bar's owners knew how remarkably true their words were.

At the back of the bar, hidden away from most of the excitement, two blonde women were seated, both with glasses or water. They and their two males companions – the younger blond with water and the elder, black haired man with something much stronger – were obviously embarrassed about something, and kept glancing up at the stage. On the platform, a fourth blond was singing in a cracked and horribly off-key voice.

"Why are we even _here_?" The black haired male groaned, taking a swing of what revealed itself to be scotch.

Why were they here? Because 'here' is where the author wanted them to be. And as to whom 'they' were…

Sitting at the small, round table, were none other than Winry Rockbell, Riza Hawkeye, Alphonse Elric, and Roy Mustang. It was Alphonse's elder brother – drunk to the point of being unable to remain upright without the aid of the microphone stand –who was up on the stage, serenading some invisible person in front of him.

_ Once more, you open the door_

_And you're here in my heart,_

_And my heart will go on and on…_

"I mean," Colonel Mustang continued. The only reason his companions did not forcefully insist he shut up was, because, if he kept talking, he would absently send away the many drinks sent to him by the just as many hopefuls. "I'm not gay, Fullmetal's not gay and you, Alphonse, aren't gay. So what the _hell _are we doing in a _gay bar_?"

Nobody answered, simply because they did not even know why they were there, either; they could not even remember how they had gotten there. They just were.

"You and Miss Rockbell and Fullmetal shouldn't even _be_ here; you're all still minors, after all," Mustang went on. If he still had not still been working on his first glass of alcohol, all three would have been willing to be that he was also drunk. "Seriously, Hawkeye, why are we just sitting here? We should be arresting the owner's ass for serving alcohol to a minor –" he glance once again at the above mentioned inebriated minor "– and for even letting them in here to begin with!"

A loud cheer erupted throughout the already loud room as the group's missing companion took a deep bow (almost falling over in the process) and obliged to the many people around him, demanding that he sing another song. Laughing, he stumbled off the stage and to the employee who was in charge of organizing the music.

"I should fry the owner for this. What if one of the higher-ups sees him like that? This is bad for my reputation, too!"

"Then why don't you do something about it, sir?" Hawkeye muttered, thought she, too, wished greatly that were not sitting around a table in some smoky and crowded gay bar. At least if they had gone to a regular bar, she could get some liquor without having to pay for it herself. It's amazing what a sidelong glance and a flip of the hair can do.

_ Hasta Mañana, always be mine…_

_Viva forever, I'll be waiting, _

_Ever lasting, like the sun…_

Mustang stared in disbelief. "How? How could I get someone as _drunk_ as Fullmetal to remember some self-discipline and actually _stop drinking_? At least the kid's not stupid enough to turn down a few free drinks…"

It had, of course, been quite a bit more than 'a few' free drinks; Alphonse and Winry had lost count of the amount of spirits that Alphonse's brother had downed, but their last count had been seventeen, which really was amazing, considering how weary the alchemist had been of alcohol in the beginning. Their last count and been a little bit more than an hour ago, though, and both had long since decided that they did not even want to know what the number was now. However, one thing was certain: the elder blond must have had an incredible amount of alcohol tolerance to be his size and not passed out.

Another round of rowdy applause filled the large room and all four turned to look up at the stage just in time to see their companion stumble as he stepped down and be caught by a truly creepy-looking bear of a man, nearly twice his size. A few words were exchanged, then Edward Elric, the 'Hero of the People' Fullmetal Alchemist somehow managed to make his way to where his colleagues were seated without falling over. With a lop-sided grin and glazed eyes, he wrapped his arms around his commanding officer's shoulders, proper his head up on his man's own and then regarded him all as seriously as a drunk man could.

"I have to pee," he informed them gravely, then staggered away.

None of them noticed that he did not return.

XXX

Twelve hours later, the 'Hero of the People', Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric woke up with a splitting headache in some holding cell at the station of the local military police.

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**Yes, I know it's terribly unoriginal… But I still found it remarkably amusing to write. Besides, I just wanted to somehow use the word 'inebriated' because I like the way the work sounds. **

**Anyway, click on the review button and get a reply!**

**xCxBxBx**


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